I've Seen Her On TV
by LuckyDuck932
Summary: Before they were Golden Ticket winners, Violet was the star of her own reality TV show and Mike watched it from time to time. Musical-based one shot.


**AN: I've actually been wanting to write something like this for a while. With Violet canonically having her own TV show, I wondered if Mike had ever watched it. **

**So, of course, this is musical-based. I don't this contains too many spoilers for the show? Can the show even really be spoiled if it's **_**Charlie and the Chocolate Factory: The Musical**_**? Eh. . . there is that one thing, but there is no mention of it anywhere so for anyone who hasn't seen the show or given it a listen (and really should!) it's pretty safe. (Actually the title comes from the musical **_**Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory**_ **- the one that a lot of community theatre put on. Mike's song is titled "I See It All On TV", so I twisted it to fit.)**

**And I guess it can be considered slight Mike/Violet? Maybe? If you squint?**

**Ah, well. Enjoy and review~**

**I've Seen Her On TV**

As a . . . present to celebrate Mike's early release from juvie (_for good time!_) after the whole . . . chloroform incident . . . the Teavees upgraded their satellite subscription to get even more channels. Which was cool of them, even if his mom had put on a (_mind-numbingly easy to hack_) parental code on some of the . . . more adult channels.

But the truth was, he didn't actually watch that terribly much TV anymore. The stuff that kept him up to five am and beyond? Video games. They were better off putting the money towards the new _Call of Duty_ game.

But whatever.

Another hundred-plus channels was okay.

Actually, his parents ended up using those channels more than he did. In fact, his dad now spent a lot of his time after coming home from work and before mom brought in the dinner to the living room (_because Mike wanted to eat there and whatever Mike wants Mike gets as long as it keeps him from getting arrested_) in front of their television set and watching the new channels. Mike often sat next to him, playing _Captain Knuckleduster_ on his iPod while mom was making dinner.

One cold evening in early January, shortly after Mike and his parents returned to school, Norman Teavee plopped himself down next Mike ( _without a word of acknowledgement between them because he knew Mike didn't like to be bothered during his game as much as he didn't like to be bothered while he was reading his paper_) like usual and turned on the news. He has just stretched back on the yellow sofa when the loud mattress store commercial finished and returned to the news segment.

"-_And finally tonight, we have some delicious news for fans of Wonka's Candies. After almost two decades of shutting his factory gates to the public, Willy Wonka, CEO and founder of the company, has decided to open his doors for five lucky children_. _How to earn this chance of a life time? Simply find a Golden Ticket underneath of the wrapping of any Wonka chocolate bar. Here with the full report is -_"

Mike really didn't pay attention to the initial new report (_he was so close to the next level!_) - it all just seemed like a thing that would be on the backburner. Casually going on, while the world turned.

But no.

"Wonka Madness", as the anchor on the TV coined it nearly four days later, had descended _everywhere_. There just seemed to be no escape from the would hear about it . . .

In school, kids packed half a dozen Wonka bars in their lunch box and the cafeteria became one big Wonka bar-unwrapping room, the entire seventh grade praying for a glint of gold. (_Teachers encouraged it._) In grocery stores, convenience stores, drug stores, anywhere that sold Wonka products, full grown **adults** shoved the candies into their baskets and shopping carts by the dozen. In his dad's newspapers, on Twitter feeds, and of course, the ever-present nightly news, tales of the struggle for the search for the gold were told.

The first ticket was found only five days after the announcement of the Wonka Golden Tickets by a boy named Augustus Gloop in a village high up in the mountains in Bavaria. The kid who graced the front of the morning paper and in an instant became a household name was essentially a round ball of butter with two small, greedy eyes. He showed off his ticket (_which had a frickin' chomp mark on it because he was too stupid enough to check for shinny objects in his candy as he guzzled fifty of them down_) with so much pride as he equally fat and happy parents gave doting comments about what a champion eater they had raised.

The second ticket was found _one day after that_ by some bratty-looking ballerina named Veruca Salt in some ritzy-sounding town in England. Daddy had bought nearly half a million Wonka bars and enslaved his own factory workers to stop shelling peanuts and start shell candy bars - all so his little princess could become _one of five to win some stupid candy sweepstakes_.

The first two tickets weren't people who really were in the limelight previously. Sure, the Lardball in Germany was being hailed as a national hero and a parade was being organized _in his honor for finding a piece of paper in his candy bar_. And the brat did have a _billion dollar fortune from Daddy to look forward to tearing through. _But no real frame.

But the third winner.

Mike had heard of her before.

Violet Beauregarde.

She had some stupid show on some stupid network prior to her Ticket winning with some stupid punny name. A bunch of girls at school liked to watch the show. Talk about the show every Friday after a new episode premiered Thursday nights at 9:30/8:30 central. Dress in Bubble Empire Boutique's signature purple, blue, and pink tracksuits. Harass everyone in school's nose with the hideous bubble-gum smelling perfume _Eau de Duchess_. Idolize this Violet girl.

Mike had been on the couch with his dad when the news station replayed her interview. Just like her TV show's name suggested, she was bubbly as she babbled on and on about her winning while also blowing bubbles with her _trade-mark _, _record holding piece of gum_. She gushed and bragged and looked like she reigned over the interviewers because this was nothing new. She was so unlike the Gloop's interview (where the mother went on and on about the family medical history several times) and the Salt's (where Veruca _yelled_ at her father several times).

Poised. Practiced. Perfect.

He hated to admit it . . . but he kinda turned the volume down on _Captain Knuckleduster _to listen to her interview.

He didn't know what possessed him to do so, but when his father went into the kitchen to talk with his mom about what was on for dinner, he checked the TV guide to see when Violet's show would be on.

_Dubble Bubble Trouble_ came on at nine.

He tuned in. (_As background noise. _Captain Knuckleduster _was about to kick some space-cowboy butt_.)

It was a trainwreck.

(_The show. Not the game. New high score._)

And like any trainwreck, he couldn't look away. He kept on watching through the marathon that lasted till midnight before an infomercial lulled him to sleep.

_Bubble Trouble_ just followed, like a bunch of those kinds of shows, the day-to-day life of Eugene and Violet Beauregarde, a father-daughter team trying to promote themselves through Hollywood through photoshoots, movie premieres, magazine covers . . .

It was every other reality celebrity-focused show. And Mike didn't watch those kind of shows. At all.

And he would never admit he watched this show. A stupid _girl's_ show. Ugh.

Not even when, when he got his own glint of a Golden Ticket (_it was a weekend dare, when some idiot in his class went on and on about HOW HARD it would be to win a Golden Ticket, when really, it wasn't_) and one of the hundreds of reporters who descended into Denver at first word of his winning and flooded into their house asked him if he had ever watched third Golden Ticket winner Violet Beauregarde of Hollywood, California's show - _Double Bubble Trouble_?

He glared at her, with her stupid orange overcoat, overly done orange hair, and overly whitened teeth.

"_No._"

And asked her to move out of the way because she was blocking the screen.


End file.
